A Tribute to Dad
Father's Day was this past Sunday, the day of the year where we all celebrate our dad's.
For many of us it's a celebratory day in which we get to spend time with our dad's and remember all that they have done for us. It's a happy time. But for others of us it is a day that is hard, and carries other not so great memories with it. Many have lost their dads in various ways. For me I lost mine when he died from cancer 6 years ago.
Has it really already been 6 years since he passed away? Dang. I miss my dad. I wish he could see all of the wonderful growth that has happened in my life since that June of 2013. I wish I could hear him tell me that he's proud of me. I wish I could again bear witness to his mischievous smile as he rubs his hands together in a mutually conspiratorial way. I wish I could again race him to the finish line on those racing games he loved to play. I wish I could observe him in his workshop and in the garage as he works on another woodworking project. I miss hearing him talk so passionately about history. I miss going on hikes with him. To be hugged again by my dad and told that I'm his princess.
Six years ago my life was forever changed, and it's not something I can ever forget. I remember two days before he died when my mom, dad, and I went on a walk around my hometown and he seemed to be on the mend. I remember the night before he died when I sat alone in my room wondering if he was going to be okay after he'd started having problems that day and needed to go to the emergency room to see what was wrong. I remember the last good hug I gave him before I was forced to see him suffering and struggling to breathe at the hospital. I remember the day he died, when I was getting ready to go help with VBS, still blissfully unaware of what was about to happen; the last moments of my innocence. I remember us speeding down the highway to get to the hospital and then seeing my dad in such pain, and how I could not bear to be in the same room as him as he suffered- I had a panic attack and had to leave, but not before I gave him what would be my last hug and told him that I loved him, and he told me he loved me very much. I remember standing by his bed in shock that my dad was truly no longer here on this earth even as I stared at his body in disbelief. I couldn't cry- it was like my body just shut itself down.
As painful as it is to remember those days and those moments, I am glad that my dad is no longer suffering from his battle with cancer and can now be at peace. His death started me on my journey towards authenticity and learning to embrace all truths about myself. I found myself now questioning everything, even more than I had already been doing. It led me to graduate with a degree in Theatre, to find the courage to move to Colorado, and to start living into my own truth and not what I had been told was true all my life. I got to decide and think for myself, and I found that I thought differently and believed different things than a great majority of the people I have grown up with and gone to college with. It has been hard work but it has been good work, and I am so thankful for the people who are now in my life. I am grateful for place like Highlands and Left Hand and the people who go there.
There are moments when I am especially aware of my dad's presence in my life. They are moments when I am playing a game of cribbage, when I am doing photography, when I am going on a walk, when I make some art, when I play video games, when I read certain books, and when I see and read articles on history and this country and even articles about spiritual matters because I wonder what his thoughts would have been on our current events. These are all things that he used to love to do, and I find myself enjoying them. I too want to know the truth.
To all the father figures who have made a difference and impact in my life- thank you. To my dad who is no longer here: thank you and I love you. You would be proud of the person I am becoming.
For many of us it's a celebratory day in which we get to spend time with our dad's and remember all that they have done for us. It's a happy time. But for others of us it is a day that is hard, and carries other not so great memories with it. Many have lost their dads in various ways. For me I lost mine when he died from cancer 6 years ago.
Has it really already been 6 years since he passed away? Dang. I miss my dad. I wish he could see all of the wonderful growth that has happened in my life since that June of 2013. I wish I could hear him tell me that he's proud of me. I wish I could again bear witness to his mischievous smile as he rubs his hands together in a mutually conspiratorial way. I wish I could again race him to the finish line on those racing games he loved to play. I wish I could observe him in his workshop and in the garage as he works on another woodworking project. I miss hearing him talk so passionately about history. I miss going on hikes with him. To be hugged again by my dad and told that I'm his princess.
Six years ago my life was forever changed, and it's not something I can ever forget. I remember two days before he died when my mom, dad, and I went on a walk around my hometown and he seemed to be on the mend. I remember the night before he died when I sat alone in my room wondering if he was going to be okay after he'd started having problems that day and needed to go to the emergency room to see what was wrong. I remember the last good hug I gave him before I was forced to see him suffering and struggling to breathe at the hospital. I remember the day he died, when I was getting ready to go help with VBS, still blissfully unaware of what was about to happen; the last moments of my innocence. I remember us speeding down the highway to get to the hospital and then seeing my dad in such pain, and how I could not bear to be in the same room as him as he suffered- I had a panic attack and had to leave, but not before I gave him what would be my last hug and told him that I loved him, and he told me he loved me very much. I remember standing by his bed in shock that my dad was truly no longer here on this earth even as I stared at his body in disbelief. I couldn't cry- it was like my body just shut itself down.
As painful as it is to remember those days and those moments, I am glad that my dad is no longer suffering from his battle with cancer and can now be at peace. His death started me on my journey towards authenticity and learning to embrace all truths about myself. I found myself now questioning everything, even more than I had already been doing. It led me to graduate with a degree in Theatre, to find the courage to move to Colorado, and to start living into my own truth and not what I had been told was true all my life. I got to decide and think for myself, and I found that I thought differently and believed different things than a great majority of the people I have grown up with and gone to college with. It has been hard work but it has been good work, and I am so thankful for the people who are now in my life. I am grateful for place like Highlands and Left Hand and the people who go there.
There are moments when I am especially aware of my dad's presence in my life. They are moments when I am playing a game of cribbage, when I am doing photography, when I am going on a walk, when I make some art, when I play video games, when I read certain books, and when I see and read articles on history and this country and even articles about spiritual matters because I wonder what his thoughts would have been on our current events. These are all things that he used to love to do, and I find myself enjoying them. I too want to know the truth.
To all the father figures who have made a difference and impact in my life- thank you. To my dad who is no longer here: thank you and I love you. You would be proud of the person I am becoming.
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